Negligence
by Gale Weathers Riley
Summary: What happens when it all boils down to the finer details of life?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

I heard the high pitched sound of my blackberry ringing as it eagerly lit itself up. I groaned and blindly reached out for it, knocking it off my bedside table and onto the soft carpet where it bounced gently. "Shit," I muttered and grasped for it without getting up. I squinted at the screen, the bright light piercing through the darkness of my bedroom and against my eyes. Dewey's picture flashed across my screen along with "Dewey's Office" above it. "Hi Dewey," I said groggily. "Gale? How'd you know it was me?" I rolled my eyes and cleared my throat. "I'm psychic and in your mind." "Really? After all this time you'd think I'd…" "Caller ID genius." I smiled at his cluelessness. "Er right. Anyway, the reason why I'm calling.." he hesitated, "I'm sorry but I'm going to have to work late tonight." The smile faded from my face and I glanced at the bedside clock. The digits glowed a luminous green. It read 7:15pm. "Again? Dewey it's passed 7 already! What the hell are you working on?!" He coughed nervously. "It's just work Gale, you know how it goes." Yes. Yes I did know "how it goes" and this was NOT how it normally went! He wasn't even working on any big cases at the moment! "I guess that means you won't be making dinner tonight - again," I sighed heavily. "Look Gale I'm sorry, but with the new staff recruits and…" "It's fine Dewey. I'll just put a plate away in the oven for you." "Uh I was actually thinking I'd just grab something here at work." In other words he'd already had dinner. "Fine!" I snapped. "It's less work for me to do anyway. I wasn't really going to cook." "Gale…" he pleaded. "Don't forget to lock up when you come in." I hung up without saying goodnight.

I tossed my phone beside me and sat up. Rubbing my eyes I groaned out loud. "What happened to us Dewey?" When did it get this bad? I've hardly seen him this week and when I have all he's spoken about is work. Well not work as such, but more the people at work. A certain blonde haired Deputy, to be more specific. I cringed in the darkness. Stretching over I switched my bedside lamp on and a warm light flooded the room. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and slipped my feet into my fuzzy white slippers. Scuffling over to the balcony that opened out from our bedroom, I shut the glass doors and drew the blinds. My stomach growled – a definite indication that I had not had dinner yet, unlike some people. In the old days he'd come home to have dinner, even if it meant he was working late. He'd come home just to see me because he said he'd missed me too much through out the day. I felt a pang of sadness as I glanced over to his side of the bed, slightly rumpled from my afternoon nap. Making my way to the kitchen I turned on the passage lights and then stopped. Scattered down the stairway were pictures of us through the years. We were so happy, always smiling and laughing. We were so in love too. There was not one picture where we weren't affectionately touching one another. In some of them we were even oblivious to the fact that our picture was being taken. I gently fingered the frame of one in particular. Sid had taken it the day we got engaged. I swallowed back a lump. He used to be so romantic, so doting over me. What happened to that? Did it gradually stop over time? Is this what happens when you've been married for so long? Has it been too long? Or did it just suddenly stop and because we had fallen out of sync with each other we hadn't really noticed it? I closed my eyes for a second and relished in the memories. I loved this man so much, so much that it pained sometimes because I couldn't exactly express how much. We were no ordinary couple. What we had been through, what our past consisted of. The fact that Dewey had saved my life more times than I could count. If given the chance, would he still save me now? I shook my head at the absurdity of the thought. Of course he would! He loves me! Doesn't he? I couldn't help it as the doubt crept in. What the hell was wrong with me? I wasn't an insecure person! If anything, Dewey was the insecure one in our relationship! I opened my eyes and quickly flew down the stairs without pausing to reminisce over any of the other pictures. It just hurt way too much right now. I walked through the living room and into the kitchen, my slippered feet padding against the carpet and then turning into scuffing noises as I crossed onto the kitchen tiles. I grabbed the TV remote sitting on the kitchen counter. How many times had I asked him to leave it in the living room when he was done watching TV? It's so much easier to find for the next person! It's as though he doesn't even hear me anymore. From the kitchen counter I flipped the TV on and skipped to E! Entertainment where Giuliana Rancic was presenting E! News. May as well leave it on for company, I shrugged. My stomach growled again. I was hungry, but at the same time I felt sick and food wasn't really too appetizing. I decided on tea and a handful of oat meal cookies. That way I won't have any dishes to do either. I grabbed the kettle and began to fill it with water…and that was when I heard it: "Cotton Weary, who was falsely accused for the rape and murder of Maureen Prescott, is living proof that it doesn't matter what's happened to you in the past – use it to build a better and brighter future. Taking notes out Gale Weathers' book Cotton?" I almost dropped the kettle in the sink when I heard my name. Quickly putting it onto the stove to boil, I whipped around, grabbed the control and turned up the volume. "Ahahaha nah, Gale's always been terrific. A great support right from the start." I felt touched. He'd never bad mouthed me in the press and was always sticking up for me when he had the chance to. If you know my reputation, you know that isn't easy to do. People tend to forget that I'm a human being with feelings. Fuck it. I tend to forget that I have feelings sometimes. It's just easier not to. Clutching the control I watched. "Do you two still keep in touch? How's Gale doing?" "Occasionally, yeah we'll send an email or a text. She's great as far as I know, still living in Woodsboro." I smiled. "Thanks Cotton." "No thank you Giuliana." Turning back to the camera she said, "Catch Cotton's brand new show 'On the Case with Cotton' on the Crime and Investigation Network Tuesdays and Thursdays at 9pm." I turned the volume down. By that time the kettle was whistling. Huh, so he had his own show – finally. It was always something that he said he was going to do. He wanted to help prove the innocence of wrongly convicted "criminals" just like I had done with him. Pulling out a mug and side plate for the cookies, I smiled again. I should send him a congratulatory text. The last time I had heard from him was a few weeks ago. I made my tea and tossed a handful of cookies onto the plate. I looked around for my phone. Shit. It was upstairs where I had left it after Dewey had called. Dewey. Another pang of sadness. I absently stood staring into space for a few moments, stirring the teabag in my mug. My phone. I'd better go and get my phone. I shook out of it. Why did I want it again? Oh yes! Cotton! I wanted to text Cotton! I smiled as I bounded up the stairs. I dived onto my bed and scooped my phone up at the same time. The little light was blinking indicating a new message. I went into my inbox:

From: Dewey Cell  
Hi…honey I'm really so sorry about earlier. I know I've been working a lot & u know I'd choose u if I could. Complications at work. I'll make it up 2 u. Promise. I'll c u when I get home. I luv u. xoxoxo

I blinked back tears. This was not what I needed right now. I didn't need to see this. Without bothering to reply, I closed my messages and sprung up from the bed. Taking the steps 2 at a time, I hurriedly dumped my tea bag, grabbed the plate of cookies and settled on the sofa with the throw rug wrapped around me. I went into my messages again and clicked New Message:

To: Cotton Weary  
Hi! Just wanted 2 say congrats on the new show! U could've told me sooner! Just remember I have 1st dibs on ur 1st breaking-news-story case! ;)

I pushed send and dropped my phone next to me on the sofa. I glanced at it feeling guilty. Maybe I should reply to Dewey. And say what? I argued with myself. That it's okay he's dropped me? Again? That it's fine if he'd rather spend time with a blonde bimbo than with me? I grabbed a cookie and bit into it roughly. As I chomped angrily my phone went off indicating a new message. That was fast. I wasn't expecting a reply so quickly. Picking up my phone I scrolled into my inbox:

From: Cotton Weary  
Gr8 2 hear from u! How u been?! Its been ages! Thanks! U know I couldn't have done it w/out u! Since when does Gale Weathers not have the breaking news story? :P

I laughed out loud. Holding the cookie with one hand, I typed with the other still smiling:

To: Cotton Weary  
I've…been better. Aside from the show, how've u been? It was the right thing 2 do – people deserved 2 know the truth & u had the right 2 prove innocent 3

I hesitated, wondering if I should add the heart. It was only true though. I was soft hearted when it came to Cotton. We had been through so much together – and that was before all the murders. I stared at the cursor, flashing after the heart. Ah fuck it. It's Cotton. He won't read into it and I don't mean anything by it other than friendship. I pushed send. Finishing my cookie I carefully picked up my cup of tea and cradled it between my hands, grateful for the warmth. My phone went off again:

From: Cotton Weary  
Y? u k? I'm…2 tell u the truth I've been better 2. Its life-changing what u did Gale & I don't think people realized that – until much l8er. We should get 2gether sometime 4 coffee, catch up xxx

My breath caught in my throat when I saw the xxx's. I felt a tingle run through me. He wanted to meet for coffee! Wait, why was I having this reaction? This was just Cotton. We'd met a million times before. There's always been a bit of a spark between us, some type of connection from the moment we met. I thought for a minute, weighing my options. Dewey had never liked Cotton, said there was something "too smooth" about him. Then again it's not like he's ever around anymore. Why should I sit at home and be lonely when it's not necessary? Fuck texting. I scrolled down to my phonebook, found Cotton's number and pressed the call button…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

"Gale! Hi! This is an even better surprise!" "Yeah Cotton, hi." I smiled to no one in particular. "I didn't expect you to call, but then again I wasn't expecting the text either!" "Yeah well you know me, since when is Gale Weathers predictable?!" He laughed. "Now that's the truth! But seriously," he replied still laughing, "what made you call? You'd already texted!" Because I wanted someone to talk to, I answered silently. Someone who I wasn't going to end up having a fight with and who was actually going to listen to me – really listen to me. I opened my mouth to say just that, only for nothing to come out. This is just a friendly phone call Gale, I chided myself. The guy's not your therapist; don't go all heavy on him after the first sentence. "Oh you know," I cleared my throat, "just to say hi. It's been a while since we've actually spoken." "Ah yes, that's true too. When was the last time I saw you? At the studios wasn't it?"

How could I forget? Dewey and I had one of our nasty fights that day. He wasn't supposed to be on call, but he was doing work from home and constantly on the phone anyway. Upset because I couldn't spend proper time with him, I told him he should just go down to the office anyway. The fight escalated from there and he called me a whiney selfish bitch for wanting everything my way. He went down to the office and I was still fuming. I might have thrown a few things if left to my own devices at home, so I got into my car and drove around aimlessly. I ended up at the studios, unintentionally of course, and bumped into Cotton who was just pulling out of the parking lot.

"Gale?" I broke out of my thoughts. "Huh? What?" "Can you hear me? Or is this a bad line?" He spoke a little louder. "Uh no, sorry Cotton it's fine. I'm fine. I mean the line's fine. I can hear you. Sorry, I was uh…trying to change the TV channel," I said hurriedly, covering with an excuse. He's not your therapist. "What were you saying?" I asked faintly. "I was just saying how gorgeous you looked the last time I saw you and wondered if you had changed," he said silkily. I flushed. Gale Weathers doesn't flush…at least not easily! I briefly glanced down at my black sweats and Dewey's blue hoodie – which was miles too big for me, but it was so comfortable and it smelled just like him and…I shook my head hard. Cotton, you're speaking to Cotton now. "That depends on what you mean by change, although I really don't think so," I laughed it off, "unless you count old age as a description." "Gale Weathers? Old? Not likely. You're hotter than most Victoria Secret models," he laughed sexily. Oh my God. Victoria Secret? Me? I mean, I knew I was good looking, hot even, but not that hot! He really thought so? I decided to test it, to push it. "Victoria Secret, huh? What would you say if I told you that's what I was wearing right now?" He grunted slightly and I could tell he had shifted. I smiled quirkily. "As long as that's not the only thing you're wearing," he said softly. I tugged at my hoodie sleeve and pulled it down. The hoodie. Dewey's hoodie. Dewey! What the fuck was I doing?! I was openly flirting with Cotton Weary – heavily, I might add, and I was encouraging it! I flushed again, but for a different reason this time – shame. How could I do this to Dewey? Well it's not like you've technically done anything wrong, a small voice tugged at me insistently. No. This was wrong. I loved Dewey. Yes, argued the small voice, but does he love you? Does he love you as much as you love him? Where is he now then? Where was he on Monday night? Last night? I closed my eyes and cinched my eyebrows. I had to redirect our conversation content.

"Ha! No! Gotcha!" I laughed teasingly. "I'm in sweats and one of Dewey's hoodies." I waited curiously to see what his reaction would be to me mentioning Dewey, especially in connection to our earlier conversation. It sounded like he hadn't even flinched. "Dewey! You still have him around? How's he doing?" He asked easily. I frowned. Surely Cotton knew we were still together? Okay so we were fairly close in certain aspects and sure it's not like we spoke every day, but I'm Gale Weathers for Christ sake! If so much as a hint of news in that nature took flight, then it would be my turn to be eaten alive by the press! I guess maybe that was also why all this Dewey Drama was getting to me a little more, I was thinking about beyond the "what ifs". The "what ifs" had now turned personal into the "what-would-I-do-if".

"Gale? Hey Gale? Are you still with me?" I snapped out of my daze again. "Huh?" "Dewey?" Cotton asked again. "What about him?" "I asked how he was?" "Oh, uh he's fi-fine, I guess." I stumbled over my words. "Gale are you okay?" His voice had grown serious now and all trace of playfulness that had been there earlier was gone. "Is everything okay?" Concern. He wanted to hear about me, how I was doing. Why did this feel like unfamiliar territory? Oh yes. Because it was! At least lately it was. I couldn't even keep track of days with Dewey anymore to be able to ask him how his day went.

I unintentionally sighed into the phone. "Cotton, Dewey and I…we…" I stopped in midsentence, unsure as to whether I should continue or not. I had started it now and besides, it's not like he doesn't know. He might not know any details yet, but he definitely knows something is up. I may as well spill it. He's also known the both of us for a long time now too. That feeling of being connected clicked up again and I could feel it. Another thought hit me. What if he went to Dewey? Spoke to him about our phone call and started asking questions? Cotton might be a friend, but he's also a journalist. He knows a story when he sees one and he's watched me at work for far too long. That could end up biting me in the ass. I took a deep breath…

"Cotton…what I said in my text…Dewey and I…we're, it's…" I was still flustered from earlier and this wasn't making it any easier. "It's?" He asked. "Gale, whatever it is, you know you can talk to me, right? That I'm here for you?" He said quietly. I nodded silently, and then realized that he couldn't see me. "People in our line of work don't have easy personal lives. Sometimes you could become the content of the news piece you're compiling. People outside our work, even our loved ones, don't always understand it either. And that makes it even more difficult because you feel alone, you feel like you have no one to turn to." I swallowed. Why couldn't Dewey see it like that? Especially when I needed him to? "Things just aren't too good right now. Between us, Dewey and I, I mean. Actually…actually it's pretty fucked up. I just feel so…trapped." I held my breath. Had I said too much? "In what way?" he answered calmly. "Gale, Dewey's not hurting you, is he?" Physically no, I thought bitterly. Emotionally, however, was a totally different story. I clutched the sofa's throw around my shoulders and hugged it to my chest, as though to try and cradle all the hurt I felt. Cotton was still rambling on and I realized I hadn't heard a word of what he had been saying. "Because you know Gale, considering what our pasts look like, I wouldn't blame Dewey for – " "NO!" I interjected quickly. "Uh no, no Cotton Dewey's never hurt me like that, ever. And he never would. It's just…ugh I don't even know when this started, how it happened. All I know is that I'm in the middle of it and I don't know what to do. That's the trapped-in-a-corner feeling I have." I cradled the phone between my ear and neck while I adjusted the sofa throw with my free hands and slid down into the protective pillow envelope the sofa cushions had to offer. "I'm sorry Gale. You and Dewey, that's a pretty unique story you two have got going there," he said kindly. "Have you tried talking to him about it?" "That's just it!" I let out an exasperated sigh. "Talking never gets us anywhere! It only seems to make things worse! I always end up saying the wrong thing or it comes out wrong and somehow I always feel guilty about something I can't even identify blame for! It's ridiculous!" I could feel the tears building and I blinked back quickly. "So…you're fighting and arguing, but for no apparent reason?" Cotton asked carefully. I wiped the corner of my eye with my (Dewey's!) hoodie. "Yeah, basically," I muffled out a reply through the sleeve. "It's totally ridiculous. We just can't stand to be around each other anymore, it's like a ticking time bomb has been reset each time we're together." I sniffed sadly.

"Maybe…maybe you do need a break from each other. I mean, often there are times where your work crosses paths and you're together outside of work too. Maybe it's just reached a stage where it's become too much?" I felt something twist terribly inside my stomach. Could he be right? Are we spending too much time together? But if you love someone, if you love someone as much as I love Dewey, as much as I think he loves me too…then…wouldn't that be the only right thing to do? Wouldn't you want to spend as much time as you could with that significant other? I know couples who work together are happy because that is what strengthened them. I used to say our differences are what our strengths are, but now I'm wondering if I had been wrong all along, if we should have gone with that initial instinct in the beginning and quit after the first try. Our differences are pulling us apart, are they going to be what separates us forever?

"I…I don't know," my voice quivered. I swallowed again. "I don't want a break Cotton! Dewey is what keeps me together on days when the world just becomes too much." I sniffed again and he sighed. I could tell now that he knew I was crying. Well, almost crying. The tears were threatening, but hadn't spilled yet. "Gale…" he said gravely, "What if this is Dewey's way of saying he wants a break? That he wants out? Maybe this is how he thinks it best, that you leave on your own accord." I gasped. There was no way, no! Dewey would never do something so despicable. He'd talk to me. Why would he want to end it now when he was the one who initially wanted to fight for us? I was more confused now than ever. "Uh Cotton I have to go. Dewey could be home any minute now and…" I trailed off. He knew that was a bull shit excuse. "I'm sorry Gale, I didn't mean to upset you or make things worse, but as your friend I'm trying to help you see this from every available view point before you can make a final decision that's best for you," he said sincerely. I know, he was only trying to help. I know. It's not what I wanted to hear. It's not what I wanted to hear because it's what I was already seeing. It justified Dewey's actions, which meant that there was a gut churning possibility that this could be the truth.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

I woke with a start as I felt my hand begin to vibrate. I looked down and saw that my phone was screaming at me silently, trying to tell me that it had a new message. I quickly glanced up at the time on the TV: 11:15pm and I had no idea if Dewey was even home yet. I looked at the phone's screen and felt my thumb hover over the unlock button, my heart starting to thud in time to the flashing of the message envelope. After my talk with Cotton, I must have fallen asleep. The plate of cookies still sat on the coffee table, barely touched. If Dewey was home, he would have grabbed a few and left one for me – without a doubt. I smiled faintly, absent mindedly now thinking of a random pet peeve of mine that Dewey seemed to love to stroke which was, ironically, why he said he did it – out of love.

He left that last bit of milk in the bottle instead of opening a new one. That last bit of toilet paper on the roll in case I needed it. That last bit of orange juice in the carton in case I was on the run. I felt something wet flutter past my cheek and hit my hand. A tear. I sniffed, looked up and wiped away the few that had escaped before the dam broke. I shifted my gaze towards the TV and saw that promo's of Cotton's new show had been playing all evening. Bits and pieces of news on me had also been flashing briefly, but with the sound turned low I couldn't hear what was being said. Their PR team knew exactly how to toy with people's emotions. Then again, I was a journalist too. I knew the tactics, how to get a reaction. Okay so maybe it wasn't always the expected reaction or the reaction I'd be hoping for, but it was a reaction none the less. Their PR team had chosen certain photographs of Dewey and I together living in total bliss, depicted by the looks on our faces, and I could literally feel the crack lines begin to run through my heart. I closed my eyes and breathed quietly. I do have a heart, contrary to popular belief. I don't have a cold storage where it should be. It's here and it's warm, very much warm.

I felt more lost and confused than ever after my talk with Cotton. Sid was away with Mark and I didn't really want to break their holiday spirit with something that could just be a trivial overreaction or crossed communication lines. Who the fuck was I kidding? Overreaction could be considered to be a few delayed reactions and what communication lines? Never mind crossed, there weren't any! We had no fucking communication lines at all! I know that Dewey thought that I expected him to be a mind reader with me. During one of our fights he had said that I always expected him to know what was going on in my head because I didn't have "a matters of the heart" department. I remember I felt like I had, had the wind knocked out of me and my chest tightened painfully at the memory. I felt my phone vibrate again and I wearily watched the screen as the little message envelope change from (1) unread message to (2) unread messages. I rolled my shoulders and sighed. I clicked open my unlock button and scrolled through to my messages:

From: Dewey Cell  
U probs sleeping, but I'm on my way home. Just wanted 2 tell u in case u were awake, then u wouldn't worry if u heard sounds in the house. I'm sorry about 2day, I'll make it up 2 u. I promise. Luv u Kitten. xxx

If he's sorry about today, then WHY did he do it? WHY does he KEEP doing it? I rolled sideways on the sofa and screamed into my pillow. Then I heard the front door being unlocked and the bleeping of the alarm code being entered. Dewey was home. Instead of going to greet him at the front door, I didn't quite trust myself to keep my emotions in check, so I just sat up and shook out my hair held back by my pony tail. I was combing my fingers through my hair when he walked in.

"Gale?!" He sounded startled and surprised at the same time. "What are you still doing awake? Did you get my text?" I smiled a corner smile and nodded. "Yep." I lifted the phone to show him. "I just finished reading it when you started to unlock." He nodded and dropped his keys onto the kitchen counter with a loud clang. I grimaced and shot a look at the key holder that was in the hall way. I mean, what was the point of having the fucking key holder if you weren't going to use it? It was his idea because I was always at him about misplacing keys – his as well as mine. It's exactly the same as keeping the TV controls on the kitchen counter. "You'd better make sure that you don't lose them before tomorrow morning," I quipped and motioned to the key holder. Without replying, he sighed, unbuckled his service belt and draped it over the back of the arm chair before settling down to take off his shoes. He didn't even look at me. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why was I being such a bitch? Especially towards Dewey! Dewey saw the Gale that no one else saw. He saw the Gale who wore her heart out on her sleeve – a heart that most people would scoff and say isn't too easy to find. Oh it's there. It's there in plain view. You just have to look hard enough, to want to look hard enough.

No hello kiss, I noted. I blinked quickly and moved to pull the throw rug tighter around my shoulders, dropping my phone into my lap. I dismissed the second message, the light still blinking steadily. I'd deal with it later. It was probably Dewey anyway, maybe confirming if I'd got his first message which was why he asked about it. Something had to give way here.

"So…how was your day?" I asked carefully. "Hmph," he grunted. "Fine. Long." I looked at him tentatively. "Are you working on anything inter – " "Just new staff recruits," he interrupted me abruptly. "Oh," I whispered softly. "Ok." Normally, after a day like today, he'd come home and we'd cuddle on the couch or in bed in front of the TV. Or we'd just lie talking in each others arms. The point being is that we were together. Now he was sitting 2 chairs away from me. I shivered, even though no windows were open and Dewey had closed the door on his way in. I wanted to tell him to come here and then wrap my arms around him, wrap his arms around me, anything – just so long as I could feel him, breathe in his scent of tranquility.

He leaned back in the arm chair and rested his head. "I'm sorry G," he whispered back. He leaned forward and held his head in his hands. I sat and watched, silently leaving the ball in his court. "I'm sorry." His eyes met mine and what I saw frightened me. This was not the Dewey I knew. Anger, frustration and fatigue are what clouded his features, along with a hint of fear. Suddenly, I heard Cotton's voice in my head, replaying what he had said earlier. What if this is what he wants? Then these feelings could be accounted for? Those feelings can account for many other things, I argued against him. "Shit happens," I said with a shrug. "It's work Dewey. Work is…work. We all know sacrifices have to be made when it comes to that – some more than others." What exactly was he apologizing for? The journalistic analyst in me leaped forward. Is he apologizing just for tonight? Does that include every other night too? Or was there something more…? I couldn't help the suspicious thoughts that bit into my conscience, gnawing at my ability to weigh out the facts and process information that I was given accurately and without bias. "Yeah, but it's knowing which sacrifices are worth making that are important," he sighed almost dejectedly. With that he gathered his socks and shoes, stood up and grasped his service belt. "I'm going to shower. Then I have a few calls to make and I'm going to bed," he stated quietly almost walking past me to head upstairs. "But first," he stopped in front of me, so close that our noses were almost touching. "Hi," he breathed quietly. Then I felt his mustache brush my cheek. I closed my eyes as I felt him walk away. Again, was he walking away? Or was he really walking away? I could feel a headache building. I couldn't think clearly as it was, a headache was only going to aggravate everything and probably to the extreme too. I'm sure I still had some headache pills in my bedside drawer. I swallowed hard, resisting the urge to burst into tears. Why the fuck did everything always have to be so difficult between us?

I yawned and clicked off the TV. Standing up, I wrapped the sofa rug tighter around my shoulders, almost like a poncho. I heard a clatter and looked down. "Shit," I muttered. Completely forgetting about my phone being in my lap, it fell to the floor when I stood up. Bending down I picked it up, then walked over to the TV and tossed the remote control onto the cabinet. Brushing the screen of my phone with my sleeve, I saw that I still had an unread message pending. I scrolled through to my inbox and saw:

From: Cotton Weary.

I stopped. I wasn't even going to open it. I just didn't have the strength to deal with it right now. I massaged the back of my neck and felt a crick in my shoulder. I made my way out the living room and past the kitchen, shutting off lights as I went. Dewey had already locked up, I noted, checking that the alarm light was on and all "exits" light was out. As I trudged up the stairs I could hear the shower faucet running. I turned down the passageway, still shutting off lights and entered our bedroom. I was exhausted in more ways than I thought possible. Without waiting for Dewey, I dropped the sofa wrap, kicked off my slippers and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up around my neck just below my ears. I clutched my phone and turned off my bedside lamp. I lay in the dark, the only light illuminating the room was coming from Dewey's bedside lamp and a trickle of light from the en suite where Dewey was now brushing his teeth. I shut my eyes and willed the tears back. Sleep. If I could just sleep. Then it hit me that I still hadn't taken a headache pill. I groaned inwardly. I was too comfortable and too tired to move now, so fuck it, hopefully it would be gone in the morning. I knew I was kidding myself. Headaches don't don blonde hair and they aren't alive. This headache wasn't going to go away. One of us had to leave, and I was afraid that "one of us" might have to be me.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

I opened my eyes as I lay on my side facing the glass doors of the balcony, away from the bedroom door. I heard the little click of the bathroom light, indicating that Dewey had turned it off and was on his way to bed. I felt the mattress dip as it accommodated his weight. He shuffled the covers around, so I tensed and tightened my grip on the side I had drawn up to my neck. Without turning around, I already knew that he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling with his arm lying over his forehead. I debated whether I should turn around or not. If I did, I'd have to initiate some sort of conversation. I wasn't ready to do that – things were strained enough as it is. Either that, or I'd have to touch him in some way and I wasn't ready for that either. What if he rejected me? Pushed me away and turned over? I don't think I could handle the excruciation of trying to keep the tears at bay if that happened, so no it's best not to do anything. I heard him sigh rather loudly. In the old days I'd have asked him what was wrong, and then turned and cuddled up to his side, knowing then that something was troubling him. In the old days, I wouldn't have been afraid of the answer, afraid that the answer might be me. That's what I was afraid of now. I took a deep breath and tightly shut my eyes. I must have drifted off for a few minutes because I almost jumped out my skin when I felt his hand quickly snake across my waist.

"Why so tense?" he whispered into my ear. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I felt his stubble brush against my neck. Whether that was anticipation or uneasiness I wasn't sure. When I still hadn't relaxed into him and my stomach recoiled, I knew then that it was uneasiness. I kept my eyes firmly shut and pulled away from him slightly. "Headache Dewey, not tonight," I mumbled. I felt his large hand resting over my abdomen. "Gale..." he whispered softly. "What is it? You know we can fix whatever it is, whatever this...is." It took all my willpower to fight against myself, but I turned around in his arms anyway and came face to face with those large, warm brown eyes I could drown in for hours. Only now, they weren't so warm. Confusion clouded them and I could tell from the look on his face that I was mirroring back the same troubled expression. "That's just it Dewey," I replied softly. "Sex isn't going to fix this. It's just not that simple anymore." I searched his face for a reaction and I could tell I had struck a nerve when I saw a brief flicker of sadness in his eyes. He now knew there was more to this, it had become more complicated and would only get worse if a line wasn't drawn somewhere. A line that could indicate a mutual meeting ground where we could just sort out whatever the fuck it was that had driven us so far apart. I knew what the problem was, or more accurately, who the problem was. Dewey was the one who didn't want to address it, kept insisting that it couldn't be so. I wasn't blaming him at all. It was her. The worst thing that could ever have happened was having her set foot into our town and into our lives. It was ironic that she was a deputy – supposed to enforce order and structure, when all she had done is tear everything apart, tear my life, and heart, apart. I continued to search his face for any trace of emotion I might have missed and he just stared deeply into my eyes.

Then, suddenly and without warning, he jerked me against him and I clutched his shirt and gasped into his chest. I could feel him, hot, hard and pulsing against my soft stomach. "Deweeey," I moaned. "It's what you do to me Gale, no matter where we are in life – physically or emotionally – I can't help it. This is the affect you have on me," he said, his voice low and gravelly. He thrust once and I could feel myself melt before I moaned again. No, no we couldn't. We couldn't do this now, not now. The voice of logic shouted in the back of my head, daring to be heard over the rush of desire. It'd be a huge mistake. I didn't want us to turn to sex because we had nothing else going for us. Wasn't that the time you were supposed to get out of a relationship? I agreed with him. Whatever this was, we could fix it. We could, but we had to be on the same platform – the platform of mutual understanding and wanting to fix it, to work together. I knew that he wasn't on that platform, that something else was holding him back, that someone, more like, was holding him back.

I squirmed backwards, away from him. The look of hurt on his face stung like someone had taken a knife to my heart. I waited a second or two for my breathing to calm down. He didn't move, his hands still clutched my hips firmly, although he didn't try and pull me any closer. He continued to watch my face intently. "Dewey..." my voice cracked. How could I love this man so much? I AM Gale Weathers for Christ sake! Love, emotion, all the soft-as-mush-cute-kittens-and-puppies bullshit? Since when did Gale Weathers fall for all of that? Since when had I allowed my emotions to affect me so strongly? To dictate the course of action I'd take? Fuck it. I was tough-as-nails-top-story-reporter THEE Gale Weathers! Until I met Dewey.

Just as he had done to me earlier, I took him totally by surprise and grasped his face between my hands. By now my brain had time to catch up with what my body was doing physically, but no amount of background shouting was going to get me to stop now. I dismissed all thoughts of logical reason, all thoughts of consequence and all emotion. I brought his lips to mine and kissed him deeply, slowly, without any of the aggression and frustration I was actually feeling. I carefully slackened my jaw and moaned into his mouth when his tongue met mine. Oh. My. God. He tasted so sweet, so...Dewey. I breathed deeply through my nose, inhaling as much of him as I could, and tangled my hands through his hair, clutching his head and pushing so I could feel the affect of the pressure on my lips. Our tongues glided in and out and I could feel his moustache tickling the top of my top lip, just under my nose. I smiled against his lips. He pulled back and looked at me with a dazed expression. I felt his thumbs make little circles over my hipbones and I closed my eyes, moaning softly. "Dew..." he caught my lips before I had even finished his name. I was right up against him now, half cushioned into the mattress with him covering me. Our legs and limbs were tangled. It was his turn to kiss me deeply now, it felt like he might swallow me whole. He just couldn't get enough of me. He started kissing the corner of my mouth and made his way down, burning hot kisses up and down my jaw line. "Oh Gooooood...Dew-eeey," I panted. He chuckled softly and I spread myself against him like bread would to butter. I just couldn't get close enough.

Tired of giving him the chance to dominate, I took over and pushed forcefully against him, urging him to lie on his back. It was his turn to moan when I straddled him. "Ga-a-ale," he drew my name out. I grasped his shoulders for balance and almost came when I felt him hit my slick centre. I felt myself pool some more. His hands left my hips and gently took my wrists, lacing our fingers together. I smiled and leaned forward to kiss him, bringing our now joined hands above his head below the (new) head board. As I moved forward, we both whimpered at the friction felt between us.

I heard him laugh softly. His eyes met mine and I raised my eyebrow, as though daring him to dare me to carry on. I circled my hips and he wheezed, almost as though he was in pain. "Gale...please...Ga..." I shut him up with another kiss. Then I felt something strange. Was that a vibration? But Dewey knew I wasn't into things like that. Still kissing him, I frowned in thought. Then there it was. That damn fucking ringtone that "she" put onto his phone because she thought it was "cute". I wanted to shove that fucking ringtone right up her fucking lemon-squared ass!

He turned his head and blindly reached out for his phone on his bedside table. "Leave it," I mumbled, feather kissing him up and down his jaw. "I can't Gale. It could be important." I stopped and stiffened against him, raised my head from his chin and looked him dead in the eye. "More important than me?" I asked, like I was challenging him to even dare try and answer that. I knew I was being difficult, but right now I couldn't give a fuck. "Gale..." he warned. I knew that tone of voice. Mean while, that fucking phone kept ringing – shrilling insistently. He gently, yet forcefully pushed me off of him and back onto my side of the bed. He rolled over, sat up and answered his phone. "Sheriff."

I sighed. Why had I bothered? Honestly? Why? How come I couldn't see this coming? The tears bit, threatening to fall. I stubbornly coughed and grabbed a pillow, refusing to even allow one to escape. I watched Dewey. "Uh huh," he nodded. "I see. Yeah I agree, this can't wait until then. Give me 20 minutes and I'll meet you there." I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. He hadn't seen my reaction. Fuck this. Fuck him. Fuck his job. Fuck his office whore. Fuck the people who needed him. Fuck it all! I NEEDED him damn it! I knew I was being irrational now, but I didn't care. I was sick of this. I turned and tightly gripped the pillow I had grabbed to my chest. I was facing the balcony glass doors again. "Just make sure all the files are ready." It sounded like he had hung up because I didn't even turn around. I couldn't. I knew that if I did I wouldn't be able to dam the tears, the walls of my heart were already so cracked. I heard him unpack some clothes and disappear back into the bathroom. A few minutes later I heard the light click again and his heavy work boots thud against the floor as he crossed the room. Again I felt the mattress dip as he kneeled on one knee, stretching over me. I feigned sleep, but I couldn't stop that one tear that had managed to run. Fuck. I felt him lean down and kiss my cheek, just below my eyelid where the tear had escaped, before he tenderly kissed my lips. "I love you Gale, so much." With each word that he whispered, I felt the cracks of my heart start to widen. I tensed and tried to hold myself together until he had left. With one last kiss to my forehead, I felt him get up and head towards the door. He hadn't even made it down the stairs when I broke down. Holding the pillow, I let loose and the tears flowed. I sobbed like I felt I'd never be able to stop. I heard the front door close and then his car start up a little while later. This only fuelled my tears. My heart had broken.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

I woke up slowly and, without moving, I glanced at the luminous green digits that stabbed out an 05:45am through the dark. I closed my eyes again heavily and sighed in defeat. Dewey wasn't home. There was just this cold, clingy emptiness hanging in the air that kind of confirmed it. I didn't need to turn around to see that he wasn't in bed. I could feel the coldness of his absence more than I could feel the warmth of his presence these days, and a luke-warmth at that. I buried deeper into the covers.

After he had left I must have cried myself to sleep. I clutched his pillow as close to me as I could then, intoxicating my senses with his smell. Why couldn't he see what this was doing to us? What she was doing to me? The past couple of hours came hurtling to the front of my brain in full force and I didn't even try to stop the sob that had slipped out. I sniffled, my eyes felt red and raw from all the crying. If I had to look in the mirror now I'd probably fit in with a couple of binge drinkers quite easily. My throat felt kitten-scratched and I swallowed thickly. I lay in the early morning darkness, trying to decide what hurt more – my heart or my head, which was now pounding consistently. Shit, I really needed to take that headache pill now – probably more than one, hell maybe the whole fucking bottle? It was a bitter thought, totally and completely out of character for me, but if it made all of this disappear, then...I squeezed my eyes shut and mentally slapped myself. I had more strength than this. I could deal with more than this – much more. I've fucking proved it four times over already! I angrily reprimanded myself. Yes. Yes I did have more strength, but Dewey...he was my strength now. Since the Woodsboro murders, since we first met and had to live through the horrors together, he had become a part of what made me strong. And now? Now I was losing that. Was I losing him? Or was he being stolen from me? The conflicted thoughts flew around my brain like a whirlwind and only made my headache worse. I had to do something; something has just got to give way here. Or I have to make it give way because I couldn't carry on like this. It was driving me crazy and I, in turn, was driving myself crazy. It was a vicious circle and one that had to be broken. I sighed inwardly.

Right, first things first: Get rid of this mother fucking headache before it does my head in. Between my head and my heart, one of them needed to be working. I needed the ability to think and to think clearly – or at least attempt to. I needed to stop letting my emotions be my guide, my heart be my guide. What happens, like now, when your guide is broken? You're led in the wrong direction. I needed to turn that around, maybe do a total U-turn. Okay so, in order to get rid of the headache, I'd have to take a headache pill. This meant I'd have to eat something or I'd only feel worse taking it on an empty stomach. I was in the middle of planning the rest of my Actions List when I felt something vibrate. What the fuck...my phone!

I'd forgotten that I had fallen asleep with it in the bed – being too distracted by Dewey to have put it on my bedside table! Who the fuck was trying to get hold of me at this hour? Then I felt my blood run cold. In my experience, and watching in Dewey's line of work, this normally meant bad news. I waited for the ringtone to start, but then the message tone came through instead. I felt relief flood through my system – if it were that important, if anything had happened to Dewey, I take it she'd actually have enough common sense to call me and not just leave a message. She rarely spoke to me and the whole leaving-a-message stunt was something she was likely to pull – professional courtesy my ass. I fumbled around the sheets, hunting for my phone. Shit. I still had Cotton's pending message from last night that I hadn't read yet! The little flashing envelope was still flashing full force, along with the (2) unread messages notification.

I cringed as I thought back to my phone call to Cotton. Should I have really told him all of that? Or should I have just kept quiet? Oh my God, I groaned out loud. I squinted in the darkness at the bright screen and clicked into my messages. Sure enough, both messages were actually from Cotton:

From: Cotton Weary  
Did u get my message last night? What do u think? Obvs u don't have 2 make a decision right away, speak 2 Dewey 1st, but this could be exactly what u need Gale. I do need an answer soon tho xxx.

I hurriedly scrolled to the message from last night, curious about what he was talking about:

From: Cotton Weary  
I'm sorry. I didn't mean 2 upset u 2night. Here's an idea. Y don't u fly 2 LA 4 a few days? As a break? My new show will be kicking off, u could attend the premiere, maybe have a little vacation time? It'll give u time 2 clear ur head, gain some perspective. Maybe Dewey will see it that way 2? xxx

My heart beat a little faster, more x's! He wanted me to visit him in LA on my own, without Dewey? I wondered if Dewey would even notice that I was gone. I shook off the bitter thought. Come on Gale, stop it. Remember something has to give way? Well maybe this is it! I tried to see how this could work, the positive benefits it could have. Then again, my stomach wouldn't stop churning with angst. And how many days is a few? A weekend? I could do a weekend. Then another sickening thought struck me. What if Cotton was using me for publicity? That's why he wanted me at the premiere of his new show? Then again it's not like he needed the publicity, I chided myself. We're supposed to be friends! Then again this is a cut throat industry; I should know that better than anybody. Did I really think he'd go so far to use me? Maybe I should see if Dewey could get off work then he could come with me! A getaway for just the two of us! I retracted that idea as soon as I acknowledged it because Dewey couldn't stand Cotton. I was looking for ways to fix this, not make it worse and that would definitely make it worse! Then again, how would he feel about me going to visit Cotton entirely on my own? Dewey was insecure about my friendship with him. I know many men that were put off by Cotton, partly because of his reputation, but partly because of what had earned him that reputation. Cotton was a ladies' man. I didn't want to involve Sid in this either. Yes we were friends, close friends, but she would always side with Dewey – protect him first, than she would with me. It was a kind of unspoken understanding. They had a stronger bond of friendship than she and I had and maybe that's how it was with Cotton and me. Oh my God.

I rolled onto my back, grabbed Dewey's pillow and screamed into it out of pure frustration. What the fuck was I going to do? Part of me wanted to go to LA on a selfish note – to see how this would affect Dewey. Would I actually get a rise of jealousy out of him? Or had we been together for so long now that that no longer counted anymore? I moved the pillow from my face and tossed it onto Dewey's side of the bed. With my head still pounding, I saw the beginning of a sunrise starting to peek through our bedroom blinds. I twisted my head and saw the time read 06:45am in what was now a faint green light. I couldn't answer Cotton right now. I needed to think. Maybe I should try and approach the subject with Dewey? Just mention it, see what his reaction is? FUCK.

I flung the covers off, slipped into my slippers and grabbed Dewey's dressing gown on the back of the bedroom door. His was bigger, so it was like I was drowning in him. Wrapping it around myself, I relished in the comfort for just a second. Then I grabbed the bottle of headache pills from my drawer, shoved on my glasses and pinned my hair up. Oh yeah, real prima donna in the morning. I rolled my eyes at my own reflection in the dressing table's mirror.

Padding my way down the stairs I scuffled into the kitchen and put on some coffee, before finding the TV control in the living room and flicking it onto E! Entertainment. I went to the freezer and began looking for those frozen waffles I told Dewey not to buy. Speaking of Dewey, I heard his car pull up the driveway. A few minutes later, I heard him de-arming the alarm and opening the front door. As he dumped his stuff onto the kitchen counter, I turned around from the freezer, successfully holding the box of frozen waffles and slammed the door shut. Then I saw the kitchen counter.

"Dewey!" I gestured with the box of frozen waffles towards the kitchen counter. "Honestly, can you..." The look on his face stopped me in mid-sentence. He strode towards me, snatched the box of frozen waffles out my hands and tossed them over his shoulder. Then he pushed me up against the freezer, cupped my cheeks and kiss me – hard.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six:

My eyes widened in surprise and, without hesitation, I kissed him back equally as hard. What the fuck had got into him? Or was he just as frustrated and wanted to pickup from where we left off last night? I decided not to think about it. In that split second, I decided to push everything into the pending part of my brain and leave it there – for now. I could deal with it later. Right now I needed him to love me, I needed to love him. We needed this connection and I needed to feel it – physically.

I put my hands onto his chest and lightly kneaded. He growled softly in the back of his throat and pulled back a little, our noses still touching. I looked into his beautiful brown eyes and what I saw made my heart constrict with warmth – lust. Pure, desirable, adulterated lust. I closed my eyes and slowly recaptured his lips, sucking on his bottom one. His hands moved to my shoulders and slipped his nightgown over them. It fell to the floor in a puddle. I smiled against his lips and whispered huskily, "Well Sheriff Riley is that your gun or are you just happy to see me?" I thrust forward slowly, lingering for a moment and feeling the heat between us before my ass hit back against the fridge. He chuckled through the next couple of kisses, each one becoming sloppier as we lost control. I felt my head thud against the fridge and roll to the side where he caught the opportunity to feast upon my exposed neck. My breathing became laboured and I rolled my eyes as he peppered blistering kisses up and down my jaw line before kissing his way down to the crook of my neck. I could feel a hickey coming on. "Dew..." I gasped in between breaths. "Wai...ai...ait, not there...too visible." I felt him stop for a second, and then he grasped the bottom of his hoodie that I was wearing and yanked it over my head, exposing my breasts to the cold morning air. I shivered and he smiled and carried on kissing me, resuming his place on my neck, but worked his way down to the valley of my breasts. Wait a minute. I was practically naked and he was still fully clothed? Fuck that.

I clutched his head and threaded my fingers through his soft hair. Then I gently urged him to change direction by pulling upwards. "I think some of us are at a bit of a disadvantage here, don't you?" I practically purred, as my hand slipped between us and I cupped him, giving him a quick and hard squeeze. He moaned loudly and I could see him swallow heavily. He was determined to try and make this last. "Gale...Ga...le, please..." he panted. I ran my tongue over the top of my teeth and grinned wickedly while I tugged at his belt. "Off," I mouthed as I undid his belt buckle. He covered my hand with his, as though to stop me. I frowned and looked up at him in confusion. "Let me, even though the safety is on..." he said firmly. I nodded and smiled, understanding instantly. I kicked off my slippers and winced a little when my bare feet touched the cold kitchen tiled floor. I was in nothing but my sweats and Dewey had discarded not only his service belt, but his socks, shoes and uniform. He was left in nothing but his boxers and vest. Oh Lord have mercy, I thought as I eyed him greedily.

I made a "come hither" sign with my forefinger and he smiled sheepishly. I grasped his shoulders and jerked him towards me, feasting on his lips. I moaned as I felt his tongue slide past mine again and again. Oh my God can this man kiss! Intertwining his tongue with mine, I sighed heavily into his mouth. "Deweeey..." He cupped my ass and I swung my legs around his waist, locking my ankles together so that I wouldn't fall. As I settled that was when I felt him. He was hot, hard and throbbing insistently. "Oh my God..." I panted into his neck as I felt a rush of warmth. He moved forwards and propped me up against the fridge. I yelped in pain as I felt the cold fridge magnets dig into my back. His large hands rested on my hips and instantly he hugged me protectively into his chest, away from the fridge. "Shit Gale I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" He exclaimed into my hair and I nodded into his chest, my hair snagging on his chin. "I'm fine," I muffled out. "I just don't think this is the best place for this." I felt his hands gently rake up and down my back, going over the indents of patterns the magnets had left.

"I agree," he said. "Let's take this upstairs. I want us to be comfortable." I nodded against his chest in agreement and sat back. I held his shoulders and carefully leaned forward, brushing my lips against his sensually. "Gale..." he warned. I smiled and kissed his nose before linking my arms together around his neck and sliding down to the floor. As I slide over his length he groaned, almost in agony. I leaned up against him, purposely pressed against his rock hard length and breathed hotly in his ear. "That's a gun that definitely needs the safety released." I tugged gently at his ear lobe with my teeth before I pulled back and sashayed away towards the stairs. He stood there for a second; a little dazed and dumbfounded, then came to and ran towards me, grabbed my hand and hauled me up the stairs. I laughed. He could be such a kid sometimes!

Still laughing once we had reached our bedroom, he let go my hand and grabbed my waist instead, holding me firmly against him and plundering his tongue past my lips. My laughing quickly turned to moaning. Oh my God. I could feel my lips already beginning to swell from all his kisses. I shoved him back against the bed lightly and crawled over him, carefully brushing past the tent in his boxers, where I purposely slowed down. He let out a strangled choke and I felt his hold slacken slightly. "GAAALE! Don'...I can't..." I bit my bottom lip and looked up at him seductively. I took my time as I made my way up his body. I felt my bare breasts gently graze his clothed chest and his grip on my hips tightened sharply. Melting his lips with mine I felt him delicately run his fingers up my back, where he released my hair so he could run his fingers through it.

I hummed into his mouth and then began kissing his chin, making my way back down his body. He gripped my shoulders and before I knew what had happened he had flipped us over. I was now lying on my back and he hovered over me. Instantly I relaxed my thighs and spread my legs so he could settle between them. I whimpered when I felt him push against me and shifted uncomfortably as I felt a tingle shoot through me. Scattering kisses around my jaw line, he moved down and dipped between the valley of my breasts, tonguing my nipple that drew taught. I squirmed and my hands flew to his head to urge him on. "Deweeey..." I drew his name out in a long moan. I felt him smile against me as he switched breasts, giving the other one the same attention. My fingers, now entangled in his hair, jerked against his head. "OH...fuuu...uh...Dewey!" I cried out, as my hips thrust against him.

He released my breast with a soft pop and sat up. I looked at him through hooded eyes, too giddy to move. He scrambled out of his vest and slipped off his boxers. Fuck. Me. Now. I closed my eyes, relishing in what I had just seen as a shudder ran through me. I needed him. And I needed him NOW. Foreplay could wait. I felt the mattress dip as he made his way back over me. Then he stopped, but I couldn't feel him against me. I felt his thumbs circle my hips and slip into the sweats I was still wearing. My eyes fluttered open as I felt him pull them off. "Off," he mouthed, just like I had done to him earlier. I obliged and lifted my hips, silently smiling at him.

As he lay against me, I spread my legs a little further apart. Our mouths met the same time as our bodies did and I yelped into his mouth. He linked our fingers and moved our hands above our heads, relying totally on my body for support.

Our rhythm picked up in pace and I locked my ankles behind his calves for extra support as we moved in tune to one another. This wasn't going to last long, but I wasn't expecting it to and I didn't care. Our words, whatever they were, were drowned in one another's mouths. I could feel myself beginning to tremble and I knew it wasn't too far off now. I clenched around Dewey and I felt him swell a little more. So close – we were so close! And suddenly...there! THERE it was! RIGHT THERE! I shuddered and shook violently against him, moaning inaudible words that made no sense while I squeezed his hands. I felt his release and gripped him firmly, riding it out with him.

He collapsed on top of me, breathing heavily into my neck. I felt his fingers loosen their grip on mine. I closed my eyes and tried to catch my own breath, calm my heart which felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest. I felt him kiss my shoulder and his mustache tickled my neck before he breathed into my ear, "I love you Gale, only…you." I smiled and whispered, "I love you." We fell asleep just like that, as close to one another as we could possibly get – physically and emotionally.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:

I stirred a little and smiled without opening my eyes. I could feel his body heat radiating towards me. "Stop doing that, it'll always be creepy!" My smile widened and I opened my eyes, stretching a little. Oh yeah my body definitely hurt a little, but in all the right places!

I squinted at him. "I'm sorry Gale I can't help it! You're just so...cute when you're asleep." I raised my eyebrow at him, trying to hide my smile and feign annoyance. He looked at me sheepishly, then brushed a stray strand of hair out my eyes and leaned down to kiss me fully on the lips. I walked my fingers across his chest with one hand, lightly rubbing his chest hair. When our lips met he gently probed my bottom lip with his tongue and I welcomed him in, sighing happily against him. He was so gentle, lovingly entwining his tongue with mine.

I shifted and he pulled me so I ended up straddling him. The sheet slipped and fell way to my waist, exposing my torso. I shoved it out the way and looked down briefly where his hickey above my left breast caught my eye. He saw me looking at it and waited for me to notice that he was watching me, wondering what my reaction might be. I smiled shyly and then bent down to kiss him first this time. He threaded his fingers through my hair and deepened the kiss. Oh my God. Why couldn't I wake up to this every morning? Technically, I could. I mean, isn't that the whole bullshit fantasy story theory of what married life is supposed to be like? In reality, however, I couldn't. The cold reality check that loved to slap me more often than Sid would have loved to punch me was a bitch. And it never let me forget it. Sometimes I wondered if it just didn't don the disguise of a blonde haired Betty Crocker baking lemon ass-tasting squares. Speaking of which...

I pulled back for a second, putting both my hands on Dewey's chest and giving him a slight push. He cocked his head and looked at me with a slight frown on his face. "What time is it?" I asked. I looked across to see the bedside table clock. Dewey relaxed and rubbed my arms gently. "It doesn't matter, I'm off today." I opened my mouth, then thought the better of it and closed it. "What?" he asked. I looked down and took his hands, which were now resting on my hips. "Nothing...it's...nothing." I stumbled softly. I didn't want to spoil this, not now. It had been so long since we had just had US time. A silent sigh escaped. Who was I kidding? He knew me better than that! "Gale?" He squeezed my hands quickly. "What? Tell me. Please?" I looked down at our conjoined hands and closed my eyes.

He was reaching out to me and I couldn't do it, like the fucking coward I was when it came to matters of the heart. Part of my brain was screaming at me to tell him, open up to him and just let it all out. How this all started because of her. How I feel threatened because of her, how I'm scared to death that I'll lose him because of her, which he'll even be oblivious to it happening because I feel it happening now! How I feel I can't always measure up to her in certain aspects, how I feel that I try so hard and only end up failing at it, and failing him in the process. How I feel that I know she knows all of this and uses it against me by playing me against him. How, sometimes, it makes me sick to my stomach to say, but that I think she'd make a better "at-home-wife" example than I do. How I know that if I bring this up, there'll be an ugly fight, it'll all be denied, I'll be briefly reassured and then it'll be forgotten about by him...but not by me. The days that follow this will be filled with consequences of bringing this up and I'm losing the strength to deal with it. I'm losing the strength to fight and it scares me because I AM a fighter! I've proved it and keep proving it! It terrifies me that if I don't fight for him, will he fight for me? Or will he see that she might be, in fact, the better "wife"? Is that exactly what she's waiting for? She knows that if I give up now, that she's won?

I knew that because Dewey grew up in Woodsboro that was the kind of quiet, "white-picket-fence", life he wanted. A working, "bringing-home-the-bacon" kind of husband with a "bare-feet-and-pregnant" wife at home, exactly what his happy childhood consisted of. That just wasn't me. I wanted to live life, experience life, squeeze every last drop of LIFE out of life and I couldn't do that here in this God forsaken place. I gave up my life so that I could have one with Dewey. She didn't have to give up anything. Whatever hopes, dreams or goals she might have could be achieved here. She seemed perfectly happy at being Deputy and as long as Dewey remained Sheriff, I didn't see her going anywhere. I was frustrated here because I felt stuck. I could tell that it was starting to show because Dewey wasn't the only person who noticed it now; many other people did too, not to mention the fans, who I interacted with online numerous times a day. Their questions and expectancy for answers only added vinegar to my open wound.

Then there was Cotton and that total fucked up situation. With Cotton, none of the above applied. He was like me in that way. He wanted the excitement out of life and if he couldn't get it, he was going to make sure he found it. His show and new found success was proof of that. He understood the showbiz life, what life was like living in the public eye, being scrutinized at every gory detail. He also knew what it felt like to be hated and to be infamous, how that had just become a part of my regular day-to-day life. He got that. Dewey couldn't grasp that concept. It tore me apart, but I realized that I was comparing Dewey and Cotton against one another more and more lately. The more hurt I was feeling, the more of a compatible comparison I saw between the two of them. I couldn't help but wonder if this is what he did too. Did he also wonder if we were compatible? If we were meant to be? Or if all these problems and people had been brought into our lives to make us rethink it? My head began to swim again and I could feel the tears threatening to fall. I took a deep breath, exhaled, waited a second and opened my eyes to find him staring back at me; a worried look of concern clouded his face.

"Gale?" he said again. "Gale, look, I know I've been working a lot lately, and that things haven't been easy for you. I know that we..." he trailed off, at a loss for words. He knew. He knew what the problem was, who the problem was, just like I did, but he didn't know what to say. He sat up so that I was now sitting in his lap and no longer straddling him. He cupped my face and kissed me firmly, intensifying the kiss by holding my face tightly. He stopped and rested our foreheads against one another, both of us breathing hard, our eyes closed. The sheets had now become tangled in between us, making this position awkward, but too secure for us to move. It was hanging in the air now, but it was obvious that we both didn't want to ruin this moment. I sucked in my bottom lip and sighed, feeling my warm breath hit his face softly.

He was the first to open his eyes because when I opened mine I looked right into his big, warm, brown ones filled with nothing but love. I smiled slightly and whispered, "No really, what time is it?" He frowned because we had sort of covered the work aspect already and the fact that he'd be home for the day. We were walking around in circles. "I mean, I'm just hungry, so I wondered how many meals we missed." I grinned at him before kissing him lightly. "I also still haven't had any headache pills!" He narrowed his eyes. "Not that I'll need them now!" My grin widened as he caught my joke.

Suddenly, my phone rang. It had somehow made its way back to my bedside table and was eagerly lighting itself up, shouting for attention. I stretched over Dewey while staying in his arms and picked it up off the table.

Incoming Call: Cotton Weary.

Oh my God. No. Now? Really? REALLY? I mentally sighed. "Who is it?" Dewey asked. "Uh...it's um...it's Cotton," I hesitantly replied. Dewey's face darkened. "Well...why would he be calling you?"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:

"Gale?" Dewey's voice rang in my ears, a little firmer this time, echoing in the background while my phone was still shrilling, almost shouting Cotton's name on the screen. I was still in his arms, completely thrown off guard and rooted to the spot. "Why would he be calling you? Is it a new story? Or…?" Dewey knew that Cotton and I had casually kept in touch over the years and I knew, guiltily, that he wasn't happy about it. What about Deputy Hicks? He knew that I wasn't happy they were working together. Fuck that.

"Hello?" I looked at Dewey with a look of a little defiance on my face as I answered my phone and he frowned in return. "Yeah, hi Cotton," I said as I clambered off Dewey and hurriedly walked around the room, looking for some piece of clothing to wear, whether it be his or mine I didn't really care. I knew Cotton would want to talk and I was definitely not doing it in front of Dewey. I could feel him eyeing me walking around our room totally butt-ass naked. I smiled inwardly at that thought, but the look on Dewey's face was pure thunder. He probably thought I was smiling at something Cotton had said. I bit back the sigh that was threatening to escape. "Uh, Cotton? Can you give me just a sec? I um…" need to find some clothes, I finished off silently. "I need to turn off the stove, I'm cooking." It all rushed out. Dewey, still wearing the dark look, lifted his eyebrows in skepticism. I avoided looking at him and continued to fumble around for clothing to wear. After making a quick scout of the bedroom floor, I found Dewey's hoodie I had been wearing earlier and Dewey's boxers. Cradling the phone between my neck and ear, I yanked his boxers over my hips, where they hung loosely. I rolled the elastic over twice and they fit. I had no option but to put my phone on the dressing table with Cotton still on hold. I quickly slipped the hoodie over my slim frame and it basically fell to just above my knees, almost hiding the boxers completely.

I turned around expecting to see Dewey glaring at me, but the bed was empty, the sheets and his pillow still rumpled from where he lay. I blinked in mid shock and then I heard the shower running. Running a hand through my slightly knotty hair, I put my phone to my ear. "Cotton? Hi! I'm sorry about that, but I had to turn stoves off if I didn't want anything burning, particularly the house itself!" I joked, trying to lighten the mood. He knew I was lying because he knew me better than that. Remember, I had met him quite a while before I had met Dewey. "Uh huh," he answered, and I could almost picture that smug-but-teasing smile on his face. "Still haven't mastered the domestic life Gale?" A stab of irritation hit me, even though I knew he was teasing. "You were always domestically challenged and really, you don't belong behind a kitchen counter playing housewife and chopping vegetables. What's next? Barefoot and pregnant?" I leaned backwards slightly to see if the bathroom door was closed. It was, which meant Dewey wouldn't hear me through the door or above the noise of the shower.

Still barefoot and bra-less, I stepped out onto the balcony and pulled the door shut quietly behind me, even though Dewey couldn't hear me. "Why are you such a bastard sometimes Cotton?! I AM a housewife and have been for some time now!" I said through clenched teeth as my jaw tightened. I sat Indian style on one of the cushioned lounge chairs. On a sunny day it was absolutely gorgeous to sit here and read in the peace and quiet.

It was the best comeback I could think of on the spot, my brain being thoroughly distracted from our earlier activities and the heavenly sleep that followed had turned it into fog. Well, other than "fuck you". "And I don't chop vegetables. There are machines for that you know, where you just push a button," I retorted. I skipped over the "barefoot and pregnant" comment. He knew better than to go there and I didn't have the energy to release the real bitch in me. "So what do you want?" I asked bluntly, playing with a thread on one of the cushions. I realized that a wave of nerves had suddenly washed over me and as much as I tried to shake them off, the butterflies continued to fly faster and higher.

"Where's Dewey?" Stupid, but wise question at the same time, he knew Dewey didn't like him and he knew the reason why too. I guessed that this wasn't just going to be a hi-and-bye phone call, but more of a let's-sort-your-issues out chat. I sighed out aloud this time and said, "He's in the shower." "And you're not with him?" Shit I could slap him upside the head when he was playing Mr Smart Ass. "No well, you interrupted that," I said sarcastically. "You coulda just let the phone ring you know, it's called voice mail," he said smoothly. I closed my eyes and mentally counted to ten. He was testing what little bit of patience I had and if he wasn't careful I'd smack him right through the fucking phone.

"Seriously Cotton, I don't have the energy for your games, so I'm hanging up now." I moved the phone away from my ear, as though to hang up. I knew why he was calling. It was about the trip to LA. I still hadn't given him an answer because I didn't know the answer. "Gale! GALE! GALE WAIT!" He practically shouted through the phone. I put the phone back against my ear. "Hmmm," I hummed out disapprovingly. I waited for him to continue, throwing the ball onto his side of the court totally. "I'm sorry," he said hurriedly, "I really do apologize. I was just teasing, trying to get a rise out of you." I thought for a split second that yes that did make sense. He knew my tolerance for patience was basically zero and he loved to see how far he could push me. It's actually a wonder that he hasn't pushed me off the cliff, or that I haven't jumped voluntarily. "If I could picture you now…you know how sexy you are when you're mad." He was flirting, but I wasn't taking the bait. It was the last thing I needed right now, a hook in my heart and to be reeled in. Cotton was the leading expert in doing that. I've seen him in action at events and other public appearances we've made together. He always came home to me though, that is before I met Dewey. I cleared my throat, choosing to ignore this comment too. "Cotton…" I said with a warning tone. "Okay, okay," he laughed and I could virtually see him holding his hands up in mock surrender. I couldn't help it. I cracked a smile and a chuckle escaped. The strained conversation from earlier had made the turn into a more comfortable street.

"I was just calling…to find out if you'd got my texts?" He said it rather hesitantly and this was new to me. Cotton never hesitated. He had too much self confidence for that. Actually, come to think of it, he could be rather bombastic and obnoxious sometimes. Those were qualities that Dewey could never possess. When Dewey's name ran across my thoughts, I turned a little to look over my shoulder. The bathroom door was wide open; the steam from what must have been a hot shower still wafting out. Dewey, however, was no where to be seen. His wardrobe stood ajar though, telling me that he had been there probably to get dressed. His uniform was also missing, but his service belt was still draped across the back of the chair. Okay, so he hadn't gone to work, even if he did say he was off. "Off" meant nothing to him. All they had to do was call him, Deputy Hicks preferred to use the texting route as it meant that she wouldn't have to talk to me if I answered the phone. I smiled in satisfaction at that, but then quickly saddened when I realized that I had actually never really had any clue as to what was in those texts. I still trusted Dewey, even with the doubt banging against the back of my head as a constant reminder.

"Uh, yes…" now it was my turn to become hesitant. "I don't know Co – " "Did you even think about it?" He interrupted me. I bit my bottom lip. I had. I had over thought it, weighed it up against the situation I was already trying to deal with. "I have," I said carefully, "and I don't think it's a good idea." I heard him let out a heavy sigh. "It doesn't mean anything Gale. We're going to be together just as friends and that includes the premiere. You won't be my date and we'll make that clear to the press." I tried to see it from that point of view and tilted my head to the side. Well…putting it that way…and making it clear to everybody…I rolled my shoulders, already feeling the tension building in them. Oh my God Dewey gave the best massage, especially when my muscles where so taut. I could feel they could snap at any minute, building up the pressure over the couple of weeks. It could be clear to Cotton, it could be clear to everybody else, but to me it was as clear as mud. Fuck.

"Think how much fun we'll have Gale and you need that fun; you need the breakaway from the drama in Woodsboro. The one horse town is so small that it feeds off drama to stay alive." He had a point there. And with me being a local celebrity it didn't exactly calm the fire, but fanned it more. I could go and then come back at any time if things became too uncomfortable or if I just felt the need to run, meaning I didn't have to actually commit myself for the full weekend.

"What about Dewey?" I blurted out. It was a thought that wasn't meant to be voiced. Cotton didn't give a fuck about Dewey or the ring on my finger. I turned my hand over to see my wedding ring, only to find my finger totally bare. How coincidental. I silently groaned, actually wanting to scream at the absurdity of the ring incident. I was so used to wearing it that I didn't even notice when it wasn't on. I must have taken it off when I was applying hand cream or something. "What about him?" Cotton asked, totally unfazed. "Well…" I faltered, not quite knowing what to say, but Cotton knowing exactly what I wanted to say. "Gale, do you honestly thing he's going to miss you for a weekend? Will he even notice that you're gone?" A cold hand gripped my heart. That was what I was afraid of. I was also afraid of who was going to keep him company. Dewey was a people person and he hated to be alone. Another opposite we had in common because sometimes I preferred to be on my own. It gave me time to think. He had company at the station; would that same company be keeping him company at home while I'm away? I closed my eyes and choked back the tears threatening to fall. Cotton caught on immediately and his tone changed completely.

"Hey," he said gently. I failed at hiding a sniff that had successfully escaped. "Gale, I honestly think that this trip could help in some way. Just think of all the people you'll get to catch up with! People you haven't seen since you moved to that shit-hole." Dewey loved this "shit-hole". It was why we had decided to stay here. I gave it up for him because it was how much I loved him.

But my thoughts interrupted like turbulence to a plane. Why was he being so pushy about it? Why was he trying to make it seem like an offer I couldn't refuse? Why was he encouraging it? I dismissed the teasing and flirting because that was just how Cotton was and how he had always been. I mentally rolled my eyes. Nothing would change that. I took a deep breath and said as I exhaled, "Okay. All right, fine, we'll do it." I could just about see his smile as his face lit up. "You will?! Seriously?! You're not fucking with me?!" I smiled in amusement. "Shit, uh wrong choice of words. I mean, you're not yanking my chain?! SHIT! I mean…" he babbled on like an excited kid. "NO!" I said loudly, getting him to shut up. "No," I said more calmly. "I'm not. In fact you might be right. This could be good for us." Then I cringed at my choice of words. "I mean for Dewey and I." Nice save Gale, but I could see the smirk on his face quite clearly – conversation over the phone or not I knew Cotton well enough to know what his reaction would be. "What are the details?" I asked, feeling rather drained by all of this. I hoped the weekend wasn't going to be like this or I'd be a walking zombie by the time I got back. "Uh, I haven't finalized a few things, so let me call you?" NO! My brain practically screamed, bad idea! BAD IDEA! My inner voice was right. I wasn't sure when he'd call and if Dewey were around…I could all but predict what his reaction would be. "Why don't you text me?" I said cautiously. "Because then that way I'll have the details on my phone wherever I am and I don't have to worry about losing them." "Are we that eager now?" The smug son-of-a-bitch. "Yes Cotton. I'm ecstatic," I snapped mockingly. "You just wait Gale, you going to forget that there ever was a town called Woodsboro." "HA!" I coughed sarcastically, "I don't think so…" because it was where my heart was, I finished silently. "Okay Cotton if that's all I have to go now." "But we just got started!" He whined. "I know, but uh, I have unfinished cooking, remember? I don't want the food to spoil." "Why? Cooking a romantic meal for Dewey?" I could hear the disdain in his voice. "Yeah it's a pity I never did anything like that for you, now…" Nice comeback! I rushed on before he could speak. "I'll wait for your text then and we'll go from there. Bye Cotton." And I hung up.


End file.
